Forks and Spoons
by Shoedynn
Summary: -Mshep/Garrus- Vakarian and Shepard enjoy their friendship with each other but privately yearn for something more intimate than friends. Can they put themselves before the mission, as well as admit to their secret love? -lol, M for lang. and sex-
1. Repetition

Between missions, Garrus did little else beyond calibrations. It wasn't as though there was anything else to do. He could always hang with the other crewmembers and let them praise him for reasons extending to events he can't even recall. That wasn't his style, however, and making new friends would only remind him of the ones he lost on Omega. There were times when he when down to the engine room and chatted about with Tali, but they didn't do it that often on the first Normandy so why not rinse, lather, and repeat. Repetition was everywhere you looked. Sure the Normandy was bigger, badder, and brought a greater sense of moral to everyone… but it was still the same. The Council replaced by Creberus; the Geth replaced by the Collectors; and all the missions were centered on the Reapers just as before. The only thing new to any of this was the aquarium in Shepard's loft. But just as reviewed, calibrations were far more important to Garrus.

Once in a while he would talk with Shepard about this and that – dead friends and one remaining "friend" left behind. But since then, it's just been dull. No excitement. Garrus wasn't one to think of himself in the grand scheme of the mission. This was far more important than his boredom. He just needed to focus on calibrating weapons for the eventual attack and that would be that.

But then something happened…

Shepard surprised him once more with a sudden unplanned visit, always accompanied by the same question to be replied with the same answer. A little dance the two choreographed well enough. Only Shepard changed it up this time.

"Hey Garrus, what's up?"

Shepard was leaning on the closed walls of the room Garrus spent his time doing what he does best; doing the only thing he's been doing for the past weeks. Shepard was breathing heavily, but looked calm on the outside. A little unbalanced by Garrus' view. Alcohol?

"Shepard, something you…"

Yes, alcohol, but unopened and in hand. Some inter-species friendly liquor that was cheap and available back on the Citadel.

Garrus continued, "You need anything commander?"

Shepard took a while to respond. The dark room took a darker undertone, and even though Shepard was far enough away for personal space, Garrus felt uncomfortable; as though being squeezed into a corner.

"Garrus, I just…"

"Wait." Garrus interjected. He could shoot of heads from miles away, so it was easy to see what Shepard was doing from across the room. Garrus had two thoughts on his mind.

"Not now, Shepard." Garrus confirmed concretely. "Not now, and this isn't it."

Shepard heard him, but still needed a few minuets to understand what happened. It was awkward to say the least. Garrus wanted to turn back and do calibrations, but that was his friend in front of him (his commanding officer too) and couldn't, wouldn't, didn't turn away so dishonoring like to someone who he knew and respected so well. That said, Garrus didn't review his words before reciting them, and they stung Shepard.

It was just like his death all over again; loss of air, blood evaporating, the heat of the atmosphere burning his flesh to char, with the impact of shattered bones and splattered inners being the only sound release. But commander Shepard knew death before, and knew how to control his reaction.

Turning away he apologized of the inconvenience and said goodbye. That was his friend too in there – just a friend. Garrus turned back the consul feeling guilty, but what else was he to say. He didn't know then the right words, and wouldn't…until it happened again a few days later.

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Author's Note: I did this a while ago, never finished it, but picked it back up for some odd reason. Please enjoy. The chapters will be about the same length as this + or - a few paragraphs. Peace!


	2. Misinterpretation

Author's Note: If this story sucks (not conceptually, but in the ways of vocabulary) just say so. Even if it's just "this part is a little funky" I'll review and check it out.

This may be a fan fiction, but I disallow that to excuse me for poor craftsmanship.

* * *

"Well I made the changes." Shepard entered as he usually did. Again being spontaneous with this whole alcohol in hand and poetry memorized plan that was suspected by Garrus. Garrus turned around to find another bottle in Shepard's hand, with Shepard just leaning there as before. "I hope now's a better time than before," Shepard saw Garrus was going to interrupt again but continued over him. "I also chose a different brand for the wine, since you made such the opposition last time."

"Shepard I didn't say –"

"So I thought you'd let me talk this time instead of pushing me out the door."

Garrus was silent. Even though he made no mention of the time when Shepard came in or the specific wine being inadequate, he allowed Shepard – his friend – his superior – to finish their previous conversation.

Shepard spoke casually as ever, with some fire in his throat. "As I was saying, I just wanted to…celebrate our end to the mission." Silence and shock overtook Garrus as the embarrassment of his misinterpretation came to light. The stoic look on his face turned to relief at this and he posture relaxed with Shepard's as they both leaned onto the surrounding metal room.

Garrus exhaled a breath, letting out the feeling before smoke out from his body. "Shepard, I'd love to."

The commander began to walk to Garrus and placed two glasses he hid behind his back on the area where EDI would usually pop-up. The wine was some fancy name neither of them looked at more than a few blinks, and they raised their glasses and took shots.

"Commander," Garrus began after normal gasps from drinking a 90-proof liquor. "I just want to say sorry for my behavior last time; it was a _complete_ misunderstanding and I wouldn't have been so brash if I'd known this was going to happen."

"I just thought you needed a break and that you already knew what I was going to do before I did. Just wanted to chill with you." Shepard took his glass and refilled it again. Garrus held his out asking for another. Both went down. It wasn't good, a bit like sand paper with parts gravel, but it was easy to get something off of it. By the third round they both felt a little lop-sided. And by the time the bottle was empty, they were smashed.

"Shit." Shepard said, laughing as he sat on the floor opposite Garrus.

"Ha, ha wh-what?" The joke was contagious. Shepard slid the empty liquor bottle over to Garrus who hit it with his foot, pushing it to the wall and breaking.

"WHOA! Hahaha!" Both of them were lying down in the calibration room just acting hysterical under the influence. The sounds boomed off the walls and reflected across to each other, louder than ever. After each and every laugh, they grew and began escalating over the one other in layers upon layers of joy and brotherhood. Hardly any talk went on at this point. Just boyish humor and stupid knock-knock jokes were said to keep the room loud and impressive to the rest of the Normandy.

"It is now 3:30 am standard time, Commander." EDI said jumping out and joining into the conversation. "I advise it would be best to return to bed and rest. That goes for you too Garrus."

"Ahhh, shuddap." Garrus made an attempt to speak but slurred too much, missing EDI before she vanished again into the Normandy. "Well, this was…better than incredible commander."

Shepard started to raise himself but was having a little trouble standing. He began his laughing fits again while trying to communicate to Garrus for help.

"Garrus, Garrus, I nee…hehehehe, I have to get…ha HAHAHA. I, need help…"

Garrus was in about the same state as his commander, but felt he could do it. He first crawled over to him and grabbed at an available ledge to yank his body off the floor. Now upright (mostly) he hung on as he lent a hand to Shepard to rise himself off the ground. After three attempts it happened. Both of them became crutches for the other as they walked to the elevator and into Shepard's loft. Shepard fell away from Garrus' grasp, but landed smooth enough not to hurt himself. After _another_ bit of chuckles and snickers at himself Garrus led and threw Shepard on his bed. Tonight had officially ended, with Shepard passed out, but Garrus was still in the room. Looking around he saw those famous fish that were a collection of Shepard's, and then turned to the music playing from Shepard's end table; some soft synthesizers playing over a low bass line. Smooth, quiet, and calming.

Garrus began creeping to slumber himself, but thought of what the commander would think if he saw his best friend in bed with him after they both get wasted the night before. So he decided just to lie there for a while. He just stared off into the ceiling and at the aquarium once more, then at the models of ships, and that little hamster near the bathroom, then turned back again to the ceiling. It was all so sterile but had the essence of completion that was a symbol for Shepard. Every mission he ever undertook he achieved one way or the other.

Turning to his sleeping commander, Garrus inspected him closely. The smooth complexion, the red-brown hair that was square on his head. Those spaced out and concentrated eyes that were always so green were now closed shut. His nose, his chin, his lips, his pecs, and his flat abs under that fuzzy stomach of his with what Garrus imagined would lead to –

"Shit, shit, shit, shit!"

Rolling out of bed and onto the cold metal floor, Garrus clinched his arm that broke his fall. He could have broken something but he was more worried about his mind than his limbs.

"Are you alright, Garrus?" EDI once again raised her concern and pop-ed from across the room. "Do you need medical attention?"

"I'm FINE!" Garrus barked, flaring his mandibles at the hologram. "I'm just, drunk."

And with that explanation came everything excuse after it. For every reason why he thought what he thought about what he was thinking, he tossed it up and admitted it to being under the influence. To the elevator he thought that. In his sleeping pod he believed that. And when Shepard came in the next day to say thanks for the great time, all he could think about was that.

* * *

Author's Note: So who saw that from a mile away. I wonder if Shepard noticed...mostly likely he was just passed out as described.

Or _was_ he...yeah, he really was passed out. You don't drink a whole bottle of space rum and _not_ pass out.

Garrus could've done so much more to him. Whatever, more for later I guess. Peace!


	3. Invitation

A/N: There was going to be more, but I decided to split it so I could switch perspectives later. And yes, chapter 4 will be from Shepard's view. The many numerous comments I've read all support that millions of readers are finding my work without any technical error or misjudgment in story direction. So I guess I'm doing okay for now.

* * *

Cue Shepard during Garrus' calibrations, and what was to ensue was the hang-over of Garrus' life; talking to his friend without alluding to his sudden drunken attraction to him.

"Hell of a time I can't remember. You agree, Garrus?" Any affect the alcohol had on his motor skills the morning after weren't seen by Garrus, who was still feeling the inside of his skull split every time Shepard spoke loudly. At a certain point, Garrus just assumed he was making fun of him in a way. "What can you remember?"

There was the only thing on his mind, and it hasn't left his thoughts for a minute during routine calibrations. The mundane task seemed to distract him enough not to initiate in conversation about it. But for God's sake, if he let himself he probably would have felt up his own commander. How can you tell someone that? How are you able to convey to your best friend, a person who would lay down their life for you, and likewise in return, that you suddenly had the mishap of wanting to fuck them three ways to hell?

"Not a lot, commander." Garrus admitted, with a hint of sadness so as to seem regretful of his statement. "Just up to the 5th or 6th round and then…" He held his hands in the universal sign of not being able to recall the night where he almost did his superior officer.

Shepard jibed, "Well, it'd probably be for the best. God knows what shit we go through sober, let alone drunk off our minds." He seemed to stare off in no particular direction, thinking about something, but hell if Garrus knew.

"Look, commander, I've got to finish last night's calibrations and today's with a migraine so if it's alright with you I'd just –"

"OH SURE, sure!" Shepard slapped Garrus on the back to return attention to himself. For some reason, he was more aggressive in staying than usual, and Garrus just couldn't put up the fight necessary to push him out. "Look, I just want to talk about ONE more thing." He felt the sound waves rattle around in his head and break imaginary glass in his head. He put an arm on his commander's shoulder to push him away, unsuccessfully.

Shepard continued, loudly. "SO," Every so often leaning closely into Garrus to project random words directly into his head. "I just wanted to invite YOU to my quarters tonight for a more FORMAL celebration of a mission success. You think THAT will be okay with YOU?!"

"YES! Yes, just please shut up." Shepard hung close for a few moments more before allowing his friend to clinch his head in pain. Garrus could see him grin as his offer that was received with borderline torture was accepted. He left with a casual goodbye and exited the room.

Garrus just thought to himself. Paranoia ran around his head, feeling that everyone knew, and that he was going to be confronted. For a few hours he was actually afraid of what people would think, what they would say, and what his friend would do. Yet, in the middle of those so routine calibrations (and possibly the headache too) he realized that everyone could go fuck themselves. He was fucking Garrus Vakarian, and damn himself if he was going to let a little thought that passed his mind while drunk off some cheap liquor would ruin his day.

"Fuck this, I know who I am. I'm not about to fuck my commander. To hell with this, I'm fine." Garrus began to speak aloud, almost to confirm his belief further, as well as to testify its truth. "Shepard is a friend and I'm not about to let this…this trivial and fledgling thought control me. I'm sober now, and so long as the mission stays, I'll probably lay off the alcohol." His words became whispers, then murmurs, and soon they crept back into that splitting head of his that felt a little better with that definitive monologue. All he could think about was the mission until the meeting (dinner – something personal) tonight.

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A/N: Review this...and be constructive. Again, you can say whatever as long as you back your claim with the text. So, enjoy!


	4. Perfection

A/N: Another "long" one. I actually enjoy doing the longer ones over the smaller 600 word ones.

So, just fair warning. This is from Shepard's perspective. BTW, I love EDI, so she'll be appearing more and more. She's not so consoling as just an observing presence that makes their "relationship" less dark and mysterious. A cold, strict undertone to what could be just drama drama drama.

Well, on with the show, and enjoy the food.

* * *

Those damn fish seem to make Shepard more and more anxious. He still remembers them dying every other week when he'd forget to feed them. Watching those dead bodies float on the top of the tank while some club music was playing in the background, it never felt right or comfortable, and that is exactly what he's feeling now.

He loves Garrus. Far more that he would have initially let on to him. He had tried to show his interests early on, but the option just never seemed to appear in his thoughts. He got over the idea of being with a friend, being with a crewmember, getting together with someone during a mission. He got it on with Liara once, and both of them enjoyed it, but he still went for that Turian who always stood by the Mako tinkering with this modification and that turret. At a certain point, Shepard just felt selfish; he had more thoughts on Garrus than the consequences of some of his choices. And for a short while (a couple hours before Ilos) he distracted himself from it all with Liara. Did he feel guilty for using a friend like that, someone he also loved in another way? Of course. And he got over that.

But never him.

Everything was perfect now, but everything just felt off. Like when you sit in a chair with part of its front feet being a few centimeters shorter than the back ones, and that sense of precariousness surrounds all your thoughts. Well here was Shepard, in some formal wear waiting for his date – his dinner guest as he addressed before EDI – with some more turian-human friendly food and drink. Conversation would be kept light, with a lot of bull and mostly horns, but all fun between brothers in arms.

But this was all to convince Shepard that they were _only_ friends, yet he felt nervous still. Maybe there was more to this dinner than Shepard planned. An ambush set up by himself, and with no exit strategy. It was easier for Shepard to view things as missions; it set objectives and allowed detachment from certain emotional entanglements. So here was the commander, going into an unplanned set up that he arranged. The weapons charged (food and table set) the scene visible (light music and atmosphere being quaint) but the enemy was yet to arrive.

"A few minutes to prepare. What else do I have to do? EDI."

"Yes?" She must have been watching because she didn't 'ping' on, but Shepard tossed it off.

"What time is it?"

"21:23 standard time, Shepard. Is everything in accord?"

Shepard interpreted 'in accord' as though it was a will for someone's death. Shepard was familiar with death, and even dying – especially dying. It still caught him off guard. After a while, he asked again for the time. EDI repeated herself and asked if Shepard would require the seconds as well. It sounded like she was mocking him, but no. Shepard was just nervous, and on edge.

Adrenaline flowed and this part of the mission was the calm before the storm. Or maybe the eye?

"Just relax, he'll enjoy the food." EDI was too smart in Shepard's mind, but also knew exactly what to say and when to say it. As did Shepard as Garrus walked through…

"Early?" His smile made the word inviting, and Garrus did his impression of a smile too.

"Court marshals happen when you miss dinner with the superiors. Yes, I'm here early." Garrus felt his words were an excuse more than an acceptance for an invitation. He cleared his voice and eyed the food.

Both moved to the table in the lounge area across from the wardrobe and aside from Shep's bed. It was only a little distracting, but since last night (an elephant in the room for both men) they felt was familiar enough not to deter away from each other.

"So," began Garrus, very casually. "Let's get this started."

"Our food is something like beef." Shepard explained. "Cows make beef. Or, they are actually beef, but not only is it _fucking_ expensive to buy imported beef, but I felt rude for eating something like that in front of you."

"How sweet." Garrus mocked caringly.

"SO, I ordered something species friendly for the two of us." Those last words were said a little more consciously than the others.

Garrus responded to that saying, "Was this planned ahead?"

"I asked you this morning."

"Yeah, you did." Garrus was a little more than irritated at how he was invited.

"I was a bit rough with you, but I'll be more gentile with you later tonight." A red flag was thrown in Garrus' head, but then he saw that coy smile that Shep so often threw with a wink after. Anticipation hung as Garrus turned his head and gazed sideways at his commander in anticipation for a complete response. Maybe he meant it. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe he knew about what _I_ was thinking? These all ran threw Garrus' mind up to the point of eruption. Though it was only a couple seconds, it was a full millennia for Garrus until Shepard finished his statement with a wink and a quick jab to Garrus' chest.

Hearty laughs followed both of them into their meal.

Shepard declared a mission success before the third refill of the wine – the same wine Garrus earlier in the week denied. This felt like a fitting end to an already long established relationship. Everything was fine and nothing could make the scene better. So it only became worse.

"I need you to know something, Garrus. And I want you to listen. This is something I need to explain to you." Shepard always went with his gut feeling when it came to the more dangerous parts of the operations he preformed on the field. He continued steady but heart beating adrenaline through his veins. "I want something that I don't believe you can gain, only earn. And even then, you need someone who believe they've earned the same thing and desires earning something as well."

"What?" Now he was repeating words to compensate for his mini train wreck that is exiting his mouth. "Shepard, what are you telling me?"

Now they both had something on their mind, and both had they exact desire to earn each other. If only they believed each other.

"It's about the mission." Shepard spat out impatiently. "We've earned this little break, and as brothers in arms…" Garrus was slowly feeling more and more relieved while his friend felt less stable by each word passing through his mouth. By the end of the speech Garrus was sitting upright and ecstatic while Shepard, slumped over, had to force is gapping mouth close to keep himself from sinking further down.

"Commander, I assure you, I'm not going to let you down. As a 'brother in arms' I won't let the mission down."

They stood, shook hands and as soon as the door closed, Shepard fell onto his bed and layed there defeated in battle. Even EDI had nothing to say as she disappeared with the music, the ambience, and the smells of a finished dinner. Commander Shepard knew of death very well, and what dying felt like…but it was never any better than before, and it always strangled the life out of him.

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A/N: I think I rushed the end, but I felt the emotionally drained Shep was basically passing out once more (his poor brain cells) so I just went with a "quick" end.

Here's a friendly PSA to remind you to review, comment, fav, and spread the love.


	5. Mutilation

A/N: A little less, but I think I made the point clear.

This is a little after midnight and after the dinner (which was around 9 when it ended) so that's your frame of reference.

* * *

God wasn't much in Shepard's mind. He wasn't an atheist, but wasn't religious either. The idea of a being (or many of them) somewhere reigning over all life seemed ridiculous, but by other accounts life sometimes worked so perfectly that you needed to have a little faith in something guiding you along a path. At moments, everything goes so smoothly that there is no doubt you had more than just mere luck; some of that so-called divine intervention paid you a little visit. And when that happens, you don't feel so bad.

Shepard felt like shit. He made his shower cold, and his mood froze over with the rinse. Every dropped smacked his skin with ice, with a burning frost engulfing his body. It wasn't enough for him, but is was the maximum it would go.

A couple moments in here would do the trick, and then he could go to sleep again for the fourth time tonight.

"I fucked up." He repeated himself this only statement under clattering teeth and shacking vocal chords. "I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up." Just as the water kept with its rhythm, so did his self-depraving fact continue to be rehearsed word for word. "I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up." It wasn't quiet either, but his words were just under the sound of pattering from the shower, and low enough to make a bass line. He was angry, upset, in contempt for his actions. Above all that, he was in love with Garrus.

He knew for sure now, even as he stood there in his own chamber of snow. He wanted to punish himself for going against his own instincts. This was his way of settling it. And after a few more minutes, he turned the shower to a bearable temperature and sat with bent knees upward. He was still shivering, but that was himself learning the lesson; when you want to say something, you don't wait for permission or a sign, because patience doesn't help the ambitious.

Shepard thought to himself, "I have to tell him. I just need to find a subtle way of explaining it to him without doing something stupid. Without pussying out at the last fucking second. God…oh what did he ever do."

Warming up, and checking his pulses to make sure he didn't get himself sick, he turned the shower off and stepped out with a towel ready. He dried the hairs on his head, shaking them around to get everything drop out. Did that move only dogs do when they want to be dry. Then buffed his body. The mirror wasn't too fogged up since the water was only warm for the last few minutes, and Shepard could see himself in all. Without looking too much at any one aspect, he just scoped out the parts he liked, parts he felt needed improvement, and parts he felt were easy to ignore or cover up.

Overall, he felt he was in fine shape, and never understood why he never felt confident enough to tell someone he knew that he liked him. Shep had friends before, and have had sex with them before too. None of them lasted too long however, and those who stuck around for more than a few times usually ended up complaining when he was on a mission. Nothing every worked out for him that way, and that was a fact he had accepted… until he met Garrus. He was a Turian trying to defy rules and branch out. Close to the equivalent of his own age, he felt he was able to connect with him, and maybe more.

"But you fucked up." He pointed out to himself in the mirror, fingers jutting out and poking the flat reflective surface. "You could have said it before tonight, back when you were on the first Normandy, but you were too much of a pussy then. And guess what, you DIED!" He banged his fist on the mirror, but it just wobbled a little before remaining still for Shepard to analyze his own gaze. He continued, whispering, but intimidating saying, "And some fucking God up there thought you could get another chance to live. Another whole life, brought to you by Cerberus, and not only do you find Garrus…but he wants to join with you back on the new Normandy."

There was a long period of silence in the small bathroom. He was dry by now but still held the towel on himself. He just shook his head in the mirror in disgust, but couldn't turn away from his stare. Shepard examined every pore, every hair, every flake of skin on that face of his before saying, "Any other person who is dead would give a life to fix their mistakes."

He walked out of there feeling dissatisfied and empty. EDI told the time, though not asked, and advised sleep as before. She noted his quarrel in the shower. In that robotic feminine voice she stated, "I have researched self-sustaining pain in the study of human psychology. This rarely leads to a better mind than before. If you are going to subject yourself to endangering circumstances during this mission, I may be forced to report this activity to Miranda, who will then direct it to the Illusive Man himself." So why doesn't she? Does she really care for Shepard? Is she programmed to? EDI never stopped making Shepard view himself at a wider perspective, and it helped him more than he may consciously know.

"Alright EDI, I won't be doing or saying those things anymore. I'd hate to commit suicide before doing a suicide mission. A little redundant, don't you think?"

"No commander, more ironic." EDI corrected him, and Shepard laughed.

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A/N: The next one is really... well, i don't want to give anything away... so I won't. HA!

Bye!


	6. Interruption

A/N: This is the big one, maybe the last one for the story. IDK, but even if it is, enjoy this one.

CLIMAX!!!

* * *

Garrus was a man of justice, and would be the first to admit he had some ethics that he'd never turn against. Some things that he just would never do, no matter what. It was why he appalled the meritocracy and it's teachings, why he quit C-Sec to join with Shepard the first time, and why the ordeal about being a specter wasn't that enjoyable in his eyes. Even though he could do whatever he wanted, the games of politics always played their role in life and the management of the living.

However, there were some things that he would normally never do, but because of a strong leader and a trustful commander, he'd do it.

His commander led him into battles against mercs, Geth, husks, a Krogan army, a deadly specter, and even now thousands of countless enemies from a ship that destroyed what was becoming a second home to Garrus, and what was like a brother to him. Maybe something stronger, but that's not the point.

From tundra to desert, jungle to city, in dark alleys and through gang ran clubs, past the slums of many planets and towards completely barren ghost colonies. There was nothing that he hasn't seen because of Shepard, and nothing that he would have condoned to begin with, but time changes a person.

Garrus is no longer the man who was arguing Saren was a traitor back at the Citadel over two years ago. He is more than that Archangel's crusade to vanquish the damned. He is someone that goes into a realm of balance without ignoring gray matters, and always looking for a better way. Ever since his loyalty mission went to a more forgiving ending, he's never once thought that a kill can justify another's death.

It was beyond a strong philosophy of order and morality, because Garrus felt there was a fluid interpretation of order. "You don't build foundations on the ocean," Garrus once thought to himself and mused it to others. It was true, saying how strict judgments with defined consequences _without_ regard for the situations would never lead to a stable order in society; just an authoritative one.

This man was so different in so many different ways.

But he was the same.

He'd never go into a situation without thinking of different ways to handle it; guessing how each choice would affect the outcome. But when it came to his feelings for Shepard, it was thrown away as a distracter that came from a night that never was real, only really disorienting.

Whatever he felt for Shepard, he couldn't say it. The last thing he wanted was an awkward silence hanging between the two of them, and saying something along the lines of admitting love to someone was just unthinkable to Garrus. Not entirely however, for he occasionally looked back at the closed door and pretended Shepard would just march in here and do a whole list of things that Garrus never told. That Kelly person would just report it back to him and then conversations would occur, and not the comfortable type either. His body hardly left his workstation, so why should his thoughts be allowed to roam freely?

"_Because it feels so good?"_

Shepard appeared out of nowhere, manifesting himself right next to Garrus. But Garrus just ignored him knowing this wasn't real.

"_Why would you think that? Garrus, I'm all real."_

Shepard's left hand was on Garrus' left shoulder, and slowly caressed down his arm. When it was at the wrist, Shep moved around to be right behind Garrus, breathing an invisible breath on the back of his exposed neck. The other arm started at the right shoulder, but moved vertically downward to the ribs, then the hipbone that jutted generously outward. Garrus was enjoying his toying thoughts, but didn't show any signs.

"_If you're not enjoying this, I could always stop."_ Shep's face was beside his, and warm. _"But I know you like it, so I won't."_

Garrus was barely doing any work now, his hands covered by Shepard's and now frustratingly laying on the consol. Shepard took them and rubbed them over his own body. He moved themselves away from the controls to allow himself between Garrus and the calibrations. Front to front, Garrus looked at the now half naked commander and followed the same movements that his commander did to him; shoulder to hand, shoulder to waist. He was anxious to open the lower half portion of his clothes.

"_Do it."_ It was tone that mixed a sense of friendly competition and a romantic tease. And Garrus was now rubbing the clothed area covering his commander's cock. While his right hand was doing that, his left was lowering the pants away to show what was…

"Hey, Garrus!"

"COMMANDER!" Garrus did a full 180-degree turn on his heels to salute commander Shepard in the flesh.

Shepard was momentarily stunned by the salute, but threw one back after a few moments of Garrus holding it so well. "I just came here to say a few things. You got a moment?"

Garrus lowered his arm and looked back at the place where _his_ Shepard was. He had vanished back into Garrus' mind for the time being, waiting for a lonely opportunity to jump back into reality. The empty space was filled with Garru's eyes, staring at everything as though there was some clue to why he felt this and thought of him like that.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about how you're doing calibrations." Shepard announced as though settling a dispute. Garrus was still looking away at where he almost imagined it all going down, or just him going down. He chuckled at that little joke, but Shepard took it as though it was towards him.

"What the hell is so damn funny, Garrus? Is there something I'm doing that's funny?" His voice was authoritative, angry, and held an importance that made Garrus turn and ask what's wrong.

"Garrus," Shepard began, then cleared his throat, and said, "I have some…God DAMMIT!" He slammed his fist on the wall. Garrus was unsure of what just happened.

"What?! What happened?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I just…I'm just having trouble saying this one thing. Just give me a minute." As time moved, the seconds slammed on top of each other and each one made a thunderous boom that shattered the air as silence with held both of the men away in their respective corners. Garrus was trying to interrupt it with something, but each time his mandible flapped in hesitation. Shepard himself was flexing every other muscle in patterns, chewing on his tongue, and heavy breaths. Both of them took more than their fair share of oxygen in the room, but before they would have suffocated, a "minute" passed and Shepard began.

"I have this thing I need to tell you, but you can't interrupt me because I might not be able to repeat it afterwards." Garrus nodded promptly, arms folded, and leaning on his railing. Shepard stood with his arms clinging behind his back. "I've always felt something for you… I don't know if that translates the same way into your ears, but I'm going to explain it anyway in case it doesn't."

After another "minute," Shepard said, "I like you Garrus. I-I almost, I…I…" He moved closer to Garrus and looked him in those eyes. Green combating Garrus' blue. Many minutes passed as they remained their stances and faced each other front to front. "I love you." There was nothing said beside that, and Garrus heard every word translated. Every sylabol fell into his head and exploded in his mind. "And what you think of that is irrelevant, but what matters most is-"

And Garrus interrupted, doing as Shepard did, taking his hand and caressing the shoulder, then bicep, forearm, and holding the hand of his commander. He looked into Shep's eyes the whole time. Shepard made sure it was really his arm, looking down to see the attachment. Their hands hung, touched, and then collided together in a harmonious blend of fingers.

Shepard, looking back up, saw those bright blue, almost grey eyes piercing themselves into his brain. That image was all he ever wanted to see, and he felt it too. The loose hand rubbed the part of Garrus' suit over his chest, and then those protruding hips, and there Shepard's hand stayed. He squeezed his grip on Garrus' thigh and pulled him closer into his own waist. They were inches apart, breathing each other's air, and feeling the heat from it on their faces. Shepard spoke, saying, "You interrupted me."

Garrus held is free hand up and moved it through the commander's hair, that scruff on his face, and his thick, pulsing neck. He didn't know what humans did, so he just leaned his forehead on Shepard's and left it there, closed eyes and deep breaths. Shepard felt comfortable with this, and moved both hand where Garrus' hips were, resting on them but holding them too. Garrus put his on that neck and around the back, tugging on part of Shep's shirt so it didn't fall.

It was quiet for a long time, but it still had to end. But before that happened, both of these friends admitted to being more than that, without more than a few words. Shifts in weight and movement were the only interruptions as EDI knew enough not to interrupt a discussion like this in progress. She waited for it to end, but that was a long time, a very long time.

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A/N: The logistics of kissing and having sex blocked any thought of something beyond this, but I think it says all that they would've done without actually describing it.

If you want a falling action and resolution, just leave many comments and I'll do it. If not, I'll leave it here (which is not a bad place if I say so myself) and allow y'all to bask in it's fan-fiction-ism...because that's a word.

PEACE!!!


	7. Satisfaction

A/N: Here's some smut to keep you guys occupied. This is the first time I've ever written real smut, so if there are any mistakes just inform me so.

"REAL" chapters will be up after this LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL (for me) so then the story will finally continue and end.

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"Oh look, a bed." Shepard said, not even looking at it, but instead looking all over Garrus. It was difficult for the two to stand far enough away from each other to view themselves. They spent the entire time whispering hints and tips on how to make sure they know what-goes-where and to prevent any confusion, all while massaging and licking any sensitive areas already shown. Finally at the bedroom, the last thing either one wanted was an awkward moment to come between them right when they felt comfortable enough to lay by each other, _consciously_.

"I here they feel good." Garrus was still a little on edge about this whole thing, but it wasn't his first time or anything. Maybe it was the person, or maybe just because a sudden case of "déjà vu" was reminding him of what he was feeling; of what he wanted and never could have; of just how cliché this whole thing was. Whatever the case, he threw his comment away and moved pass the commander to the bed.

Garrus turned to gaze behind him at Shepard, using his eyes to stop the commander and command _him_ to take a look. Shepard kept his pace, appreciating his companion in his entirety. He walked into him, but didn't stumble. Shepard just picked Garrus up by the thighs and moved him to the finish line. With his back to Shep's chest and his ass seated in his arms, the strength he felt surround him cured him of any doubts about this.

"I want this…" he began. His head leaned back and talking softly into the ear of his more-than-a-friend friend. "I want this badly," there was a pause, brief but heavy, "so don't disappoint."

Shepard laid Garrus down on his knees, facing away from himself but not bent over. He wanted to do more than just fuck; he wanted to make Garrus scream and scratch, cry and love, and even more than just that.

"I never do when _I'm_ on the mission." That was all that Shep said. That was all Garrus needed to hear. Reassurance that was unnecessary but very comforting. Such was his nature around people; to do the right thing but also the good thing. And Garrus can account just how "good" it was.

He began with the back of Garrus' exposed neck, rubbing his teeth on the skin only to lick it wet and clean. Shepard made sure to completely sweep the area before continuing on. His hands were also busy helping Garrus undo his suit. A satisfying click was heard, which was the cue to then flip Garrus around and on his back. Shepard made the landing soft, but then right back to being aggressive, tearing the pieces of his partner's suit across the room almost hitting the aquarium with part of the projectile armor.

Garrus was now half naked, and loosing more and more as Shepard ripped whole sections from Garrus onto the floor and walls. He didn't mind though. It was like watching a kid unwrap his presents to Garrus' eyes; every piece torn away only building the anticipation for the prize, and what a reward Shepard found.

Shepard still had his clothes on, even his shoes on, so Garrus felt it now time for him to be "on top" as Shepard explained in the elevator ride. Wiggling out of his pin, he wrapped his legs Shepard's arms, shifted his weight forward, and – while achieving his goal – almost crushed Shepard's arms with the move. With this both men were on the edge of the bed with Shepard's head hanging off as Garrus' erection pointed right at his face. Garrus took this opportunity to strip Shep of his pants while still facing him. Feeling around, he found the zipper and did what was by this point above natural.

Shepard also did what felt natural as he both stroked and licked his partner's shaft and head. The membrane felt similar to that of a human's to Shepard, minus the hair and shape (it having a more arrowed-head tip) but overall it was just like any other dick Shepard had encountered on his missions; only this time he was glad to see this one.

His pants off, Shepard used his spare hand to undress his torso. Garrus pulled himself from those moist lips to aid him untangle his clothes loose, but Garrus mostly just inhaled giant gulps of Shepard's odor while lying on top of him as his hands moved up and down his outer thighs. With all the clothes on the floor, (or just off their bodies) there was nothing left between them aside from the closing gap between their spaces.

Shepard licked Garrus' chin, and Garrus returned by biting his lip only to lick it after. It was a mix of pain and pleasure between the two. It took nearly half an hour of four-play before Shepard was decidedly on-top. The condom was on Shepard's hard cock, pre-lubricated as manufactured, and slid oh so easily into Garrus. They were in some type of missionary position that had Shepard on his knees but leaning over Garrus while Garrus' legs were wrapped on Shepard's lower back. Garrus pulled Shepard back in rhythmic motion that comes with sex.

Their faces were close enough to blur into one another, and breaths were exchanged hand and hand. Every breath was hot and hit their faces with such heat that soon the whole room raised temperatures. Sweat was starting to drip from Shepard's skin, and though Garrus felt it was not to be digested he _had_ to try it. His tongue sucked up any drops of perspiration from Shepard's scruffy neck and jaw. He was handling his own cock as he let Shepard control the scene. Meanwhile, from time to time, Shepard leaned his body out to view the whole scene. Garrus had closed his mind by this time, starting to feel climax on its way, but not quite there yet. And though both their bodies were shaking about with passion, Garrus' was especially so. It could even be viewed as though he was in excruciating pain, but his occasional moans said just the opposite. Stopping to ask if he was okay would be suicide for Shepard, so he just continued doing _whom_ he was doing.

It was starting to take over, the sex. Both of them were beyond the romance and now their bodies handled the rest. Shepard rammed forward as Garrus pushed himself up againt Shepard's. The end was starting to begin, and some pre-come was dripping from Garrus at this point, but it was still long from being over. Shepard wanted to finish this like no other. So in one movement, he picked up Garrus, pinned him to the wall above the headboard of the bead, and slammed his cock right up into Garrus as he pulled him down on himself. Garrus dug his claws in unbelievable bliss, his own cock being satisfied rubbing along Shepard's hard, muscled, sweaty stomach.

This was it, when Shepard began grunting and loosing his strength in absolute orgasm. Garrus was already gone when Shepard came, but it was a very close call. He moved a few more times inside Garrus to get anything else out, pulled out, then slowly, carefully, moved back to the bed to lay opposite of how one would usually lay in a bed. Then again, there was nothing usual about this couple.

One on top of the other, silence was a warm blanket and their heat was exchanged as fairly as before. There was nothing awkward between them; there was nothing between them now. It was just them now, and that was how they always wanted it to be anyway. Spent, weak, and with company, they felt the tension of everything before this moment drift farther away from them; sent adrift by their passion, their fury, their love.

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A/N: ...so, I'm done. This was good, and I even got to write some sex in there.

Well guys, see you on the flip side. You can enjoy this and review still, and of course thank you for enjoying the story in general.

Peace and Love!


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